


The Night Before Christmas

by stripeypirate



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, Humor, Mild Cursing, christmas in july, it's not a wendigo sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripeypirate/pseuds/stripeypirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An entire town crushed to dust? Vanishing naked people with a taste for human flesh?<br/>The Winchesters may be in over their heads this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Before Christmas

T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring… except for a Titan.

Overnight an entire town was crushed to dust; the inhabitants either fled or killed. Those who did survive were useless as witnesses- reduced to trembling lumps of flesh, they jabbered on about massive muscle-bound behemoths that had appeared, wreaked havoc, and then vanished just as suddenly.

Local brass were clueless. Though judging from their pointed stares at the FBI badges, they suspected some sort of government experiment gone awry.

_Hell, they could even be right this time for all we know._ Dean dragged a hand across his face in a futile attempt to soothe his burning eyes.  _Damnit Sam, hurry up so we can head back and grab a few hours sleep. We’re not gonna get anything out of this guy._

But of course his younger brother didn’t respond to the telepathic signals Dean was shooting his way. Sam continued his gentle, nuanced questioning of the terrified man, and came to the same conclusion that the other civilians had offered- whatever it was, it was fucking _huge_. Oh, and apparently had a taste for human flesh. _Perfect._

Back at the motel, amidst piles of books and two-day old takeout containers, the brothers made a list of possible creatures. The first and only suggestion was “Giant,” with a question mark next to it, because while there was plenty of lore, no one had ever actually _seen_ one as far as they could tell.

Sam let out an irritated, pursed-lipped sigh and Dean realized that he’d been drumming his pencil against his coffee. He paused a moment before redoubling his efforts.

“Y’know, maybe we’d be closer to finding this thing if you weren’t so busy being an asshole.”

“I bet the reason no one’s seen a Giant is because they can disappear. They could’ve been here the whole time, only appearing when they need to feed. Like, what if there’s one chilling outside out window right now, all four hundred feet of him?” Dean waggled his eyebrows.

“Alright, I’ve had enough.” Sam slammed his laptop down with a decisive _click_. “I’m going back to the town to see if there was something in the rubble we missed.”

“Aw c’mon-” but Sam’s hand was already wrapped around the door handle.

The air tingled with a strange electricity. Dean’s ears caught a soft _woosh_ before an earsplitting crack as a ginormous bolt of lighting crashed into the parking lot. He saw red for a minute before his vision was obscured by clouds of steam.

“What the hell-” He glanced over at Sam, who stood frozen in the threshold. The brothers moved in unison, all argument forgotten. Dean grabbed the knife under his pillow as Sam went for the gun at the small of his back. He also snatched a fistful of salt from the line along the windowsill. _I guess this is as prepared as we’re gonna get_ , Dean thought to himself as he dashed into the lot.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In his twenty-seven years, Dean had seen a bunch of crazy shit. More than the general population put together, in fact. However, a thirty-foot naked dude- make that a thirty-foot naked, _skinless_ dude was not one of them. Sam appeared to be equally shocked; his mouth hanging open in an uncharacteristic expression of stupefaction. The last time Dean could remember seeing it was when Sam walked in on him getting to know Sam’s high school prom date. In the biblical sense.

The creature interrupted Dean’s reminiscence by swinging a sinewy fist and taking off the top of the apartment complex across the street.

_Well if it looks human, maybe it can be killed like one._ Dean shoved the knife into his boot sheath, replacing it for the comforting weight of his favorite handgun.

“Oi fugly, over here!” Dean shouted, firing two rounds at the thing’s head.

Skinless let out a ferocious roar as the bullets lodged in its skull, but seemed otherwise unaffected. Sam followed Dean’s lead and emptied his clip into various vital points. It responded by taking out the motel's “Vacancy” sign in one swipe. The letters lay splayed forlornly on the asphalt, the neon lights still winking feebly.

“Your turn, genius!” Dean hissed at Sam, “and quickly, before we become snacks for Andre over here.”

“Andre? Never mind, uh” Sam blew out a long breath. Dean could almost see the neurons in his brain firing at hyperspeed. “Well,” he continued slowly, “It feeds on humans, right? Do you think it’s maybe some sort of…” he winced, as if the mere suggestion was paining him, “mutated Wendigo?”

“I can roll with that.”

 Sam’s eyebrows climbed skyward in surprise. “Really? Because I was totally grasping at straws.”

“What else do we have?” Dean muttered, “Now go get- ohSHIT!”

“What?”

“Flare guns’re in the trunk.”

Both brothers stared down the length of the parking lot, which seemed to have grown by several miles. The Impala was planted squarely between Andre’s giant feet. _If he dares step on my baby…_  

“You distract him, I’ll grab the guns?” Sam asked hopefully.

“Not a chance,” Dean smirked, dangling the keys in front of his brother’s face before palming them securely.  This had become a rescue mission.

By now, Andre had become aware of the two tasty morsels below him. He lurched forward, his impossibly long arms swinging at his sides. Sam took off running in the opposite direction, mumbling expletives under his breath.

Meanwhile, Dean raced to the Impala; taking care not to get stomped on as Andre angled his way towards Sam.

“Let’s do this, baby.” He popped the trunk first, snatching the weapons before lunging to the driver’s side. Once safely ensconced, Dean took a moment to assess the situation. The apartment was toast; its inhabitants were beginning to straggle outside. Those that could still walk, anyways.  The motel owner was busy barricading himself inside his office, _Probably shitting his pants right now,_ And Sam was ducking and weaving for all he was worth- barely evading the creature’s grasping fingers.

A sudden stroke of genius dawned on Dean. _We need to get it down to our level. Once it loses the height advantage we can stab it, burn it, whatever. It’s not called the Achilles heel for nothing._ He revved the Impala’s engine. _Showtime._

Hindsight, Dean realized, was a major bitch.

Yes, on second thought, driving the Impala at full-speed into the back of Andre’s ankle was definitely not one of his brightest ideas.

_As far as dying goes, this way is surprisingly lame,_ Dean thought dimly as a massive palm stretched over the crumpled hood of his beloved car, wrenching it off easily. He could hear muffled shouting in the distance. _Sorry, Sam. End of the line for me._ The flare gun slipped out of his limp fingers as Andre hauled him up into the air.

Time seemed to slow as its massive maw opened, preparing to swallow him whole. _Hope you brushed your teeth, ya ugly fuck._

Something moved in the corner of his eye. A small, dark shape hurtling at breathtaking speed towards the creature’s head. A long, black coil shot out, embedding itself in the creature’s neck. With a _wizzz_ , the shape- _person?-_ shot forward. A flash of steel, a spray of blood and Dean was falling.

He tried to yell, but breathing was becoming pretty damn difficult. _Probably broke a rib in the crash. Looks like I’m still gonna die, Sammy._

The shape- yeah it was definitely a man. An oddly short, vaguely _flat_ man- reversed his direction, the cord shooting past Dean’s ear and embedding itself into the ridiculously decked-out Christmas tree that towered over the squat motel.

He felt the little air he had left leave his lungs as he was body-slammed back into the branches.

“Fine how d’ya do,” He managed to choke out.

“Kore wa ōkina o shiri no kidesu,” the man replied.*

**Author's Note:**

> * This is a big-ass tree (according to Google translator. I took exactly one semester of Japanese in college and I did not learn to say fun things like that).


End file.
